Zombie Apocalypse
by Metal Flowers
Summary: The world is ending in a way that Max has never expected: the zombie apocalypse. Worse yet, the Flock has been seperated. Now, the task of saving the world can it even be done? is up to Max and Max alone, unless she can find her family, if they aren't already dead. Or undead, as the case may be.
1. Chapter 1

"No," I whispered as I viewed the wreckage before me. Flames reached so high up that the seemed too lick the sky, cancelling out flying. That was really, really bad. Running was dangerous, but that seemed to be out only option. We just had to be careful.

"How many bombs do we have?" I asked as I stood on the edge of the Hollywood sign, overlooking the city. A fresh wave of screams rung out as a mob surprised a group of humans.

I received no answer. In surprise, I spun around to see…nothing. The land around me was deserted, save for one lumbering being. My Flock had disappeared. No. That…couldn't happen. Where were they? Did they get separated because of a mob? Fang could survive on his own, I knew. But Dylan? And Iggy, my blind pyro? Nudge, my chatterbox? I couldn't even think of what may have happened to Angel and Gazzy, my children. I had to find them.

The lumbering figure approached me and I gave it a high kick to the head, knocking the zombie the ground. It snapped at me hungrily as I drove the heel of my boot into it's head. I stomped on the corpse's head until the zombie stopped moving.

The city. I should start looking in the city. That's where the most danger is, so if they went there they'd need more help. I'd think that, while they most likely were in the forest, it'd be better to be safe then sorry. They could function in the forest. They'd need aid if in the city.

With worry and determination etched clearly on my face, I started to trek down to the city of hell. Why hadn't Jeb warned me that the world would end this way? In the zombie apocalypse? I had thought that it would end in a meteor, earthquakes, an alien invasion, or wars. I thought that it could be something I could prevent. How was I –Maximum Ride- supposed to save the world from _this_?

Impossible.

But I'd never stop trying.

If there was one shred of hope that I could save my Flock from this, I'd do it. I still had hope, even here surrounded by the dead and undead, so I was screwed. I quickened my pace. I had to find my Flock. I tucked in my wings silently as well. I wouldn't want to be attacked by humans as well as zombies.

First stop, Mom's new house. Hopefully, they'd be holed up there instead of dead.


	2. Martinez

**Thank you for reviewing, guys. My writing instincts are on haywire right now, though I have NO internet connection, unfortunately. I thought that having Max just fly over all the zombies would be too easy and anticlimactic, so now she'll have another reason to stay on the ground: a comrade who can't fly.**

**Without Further Adieu, **

While observing a particularly large mob from the top of a building, I noticed a few things. One, none of the zombies had developed a grotesque form yet. All of them died recently, so the only indicators of their zombie state were their gray tinged skin and lumbering pace. The second thing was that while most of them were slow, there were about two zombies per mob that could run as fast as a human. That wasn't good. The only thing about them that gave me hope was that they seemed to be lacking in strength. The third, and final, thing was that Star of Fang's gang was one of the fast zombies. That meant that Fang's gang was here as well. It was strange that we were all here.

"Uungh," One of the undead groaned from behind me. I suddenly became aware of the dozen zombies that had gathered on top of the roof. They had apparently broken through the locked door. Fantastic. With a yell, I swept up a metal pipe from the ground and started smashing heads. If there was one thing I've learned from living with Iggy and Gazzy all of these years, it was that zombies were particularly vulnerable in the head.

I think that the zombies really had an unfair advantage over us. With us, we had to give multiple beatings to a zombie's head to kill it, unless we had the blessing of a gun. With them, all they had to do was give us a single scratch or bite and it was all over.

I was about three blocks away from Ella and Mom's new house. I could make it there, hopefully, but I couldn't beat all of these zombies. Admitting defeat, I ran away from the mob and jumped down to the ground, landing safely below. Although, once I landed, it wasn't safe. The mob saw me, one stupid zombie at a time, and immediately began lumbering in my direction. Star reached me first.

"I don't think so," I spat and flipped her over my shoulder once she got in range. As she lay on the ground, she snarled at me. Her face was decaying so quickly compared to the others that there was barley a trace of the stuck up beauty that she once was.

"I think that maybe you'd thank me for this, if you could," I told her, my voice etched with grief. I brought down the metal pipe on her head as hard as I could, smashing her brain like a pumpkin.

After that, getting away was easy. I ran through the mob, swinging the pipe at anyone who got near. Before I re-killed the zombies, I checked their faces to make sure that I didn't know any of them, not that that would have done any good.

Once I'd put about ten yards of distance between the undead and me, I turned a sharp left through a narrow alley and jumped on a trashcan. From my new elevation, I reached up and grabbed the bottom of an escape exit. I pulled myself up and climbed until I felt safe enough. I perched myself on the side of the rail and watched the zombies mill about below me, completely oblivious that their prey had escaped.

Coincidentally, this chase had led me even closer to my destination. I could see the house from here. It was a nice cottage styled house made of brick. The house always reminded me of the candy cottage in the Hansel and Gretel tale. There was one main difference between the two, though. This one was surrounded by zombies.

A feminine, teenage scream filled the air, attracting even more zombies. God, no. What if I was too late? I shook my head as I pulled out my wings and flipped over the railing. I soared through the air and landed on Ella's roof. Another scream, this one cut short. A door slammed. I leaned over the edge of the roof and kicked in Ella's window. Hurriedly, I launched myself inside and surveyed the mess. Ella was standing right beside the door, bracing it with her body. Tears were running down her cheeks and choked sobs were erupting from her body.

I ran up and leaned against the door as well. Ella's eyes widened in fear, then gratitude as she realized who I was.

"Max!" she cried out in between sobs. Something rammed into the door from the opposite side.

"El- la," the assailant crooned in a frighteningly familiar voice. That same voice had soother me as my mother patched my gunshot wound up, comforted me when Fang had went away, and sang as she made cookies.

"Is that…?" I trailed off and looked at Ella desperately. It couldn't be.

"It's mom," Ella cried hysterically as her knees gave way and she sank to the floor. I put even more effort into keeping the door closed, "She was so _normal_. She went out to get the mail yesterday and the mailman attacked her. We didn't know what just happened, so we took her to the hospital and they told her that she was fine and they'd look for the mailman. We went home…and…and she started making cookies. She coughed up blood onto the batter just started vomiting. Then…then she tried to attack me. I didn't know what happened. I just ran."

"Mom's talking," I stated the obvious. Maybe she wasn't a zombie. Zombies couldn't talk. Hat thought was immediately discarded as Mom yet again rammed against the door.

"El-la," Mom croaked again, "Ma-ax?"

"Oh, great," I growled. The door was starting to give way. There was no way that we could keep her at bay for much longer, "Ella. Get on the bed."

"Why?" she asked, breaking out of her hysteric sobs. Nevertheless, she did as I ordered and climbed onto the bed, hugging her knees.

"Close your eyes," I instructed as I let Mom inside. I had one second to see her for the last time. Mom's black hair was still shiny and smooth, her skin only slightly gray. She looked exactly the same except for the fact that her jaw seemed unhinged from the rest of her face and her eyes were wild.

"I love you," I whispered as I brought down the metal pipe with crushing force onto her head. She didn't die, she was much too strong for that, but it stunned her. Once she had regained the little consciousness that she had left, she snapped at me, getting way too close for comfort. Mom knocked me to the ground and the pipe rolled away from me. I held her shoulders tightly and fought to keep her face away from my skin. I really didn't want to get bit.

"_No_!" Ella shrieked and pulled Mom of me, propelling both of them out of the window. Mom went flying out onto the street, not moving once she hit the asphalt. Ella managed to grab the window sill and dangle there.

I immediately took hold of her hand and pulled her back into her room. She began to cry.

"I killed Mom," she leaned against me and sobbed. Since we both needed comfort, I hugged her tightly. Ella was real, she was safe. Though not a mutant, Ella was part of my Flock.

"You didn't kill Mom. You killed a zombie." I reminded her, my voice cracking. I had to be strong for Ella. I had to be strong. I pulled her up, though I didn't stop hugging her, and led her downstairs. Once on the ground floor, I surveyed the mess. The front door was made of solid oak, so that was going to stay for awhile. The zombies seemed to be having trouble bursting through the windows, so I bet that it was Plexiglas. Great.

I laid Ella on the couch inside the living room and brought up a quilt around her, certain that we'd have a few hours of peace. I wandered into the kitchen next, toting Ella's book bag. I emptied the bag of everything but a few pencils, a notebook, and a picture of her and her friends.

"J.J and Sam," I whispered, almost in disbelief, as I stared at the picture. She was friends with my old friends. Good, they were nice, though probably dead by now. I stared around the kitchen critically. There was a large bull full of cookie batter that had hardened, with specks of blood scattering the top. There were also puddles of vomit, probably where Mom had thrown up blood. Avoiding the blood, I packed non perishable food items into the bag. We could keep dry and canned foods. Fresh food would have to go right now. I pulled out a bowl of peaches from the refrigerator, as well as the bread and milk. Cheese would have to go, too, though that could wait until later. Thinking ahead, I also filled the sink to the brim with water. I didn't know how long the water would run, so it was better to have some for the future.

The future. That term was much more mysterious than it was yesterday, for today it was doubtful that there would even be a future to look forwards to.


	3. Safehouse

"I want to see how bad it is outside," Ella said quietly, her voice raw from sobbing half the day. Ella was great at coping, or pushing bad things out of her mind. I don't know if I should be worried that she only cried for a few short hours before regaining sense after her mother died and tried to kill her.

I shook my head and sipped some water. Taking precautions, I'd filled all the sinks and bathtubs with water. You never knew when the water would run out. There was a well in the backyard, but I was sure that zombies would break into the backyard soon enough. "It's bad, Ella."

"I know that," her chair fell back as she abruptly stood up, "Max, our mom turned into a zombie and tried to kill us. I _know_ that it'll be different. I _know_ that everyone I know is probably dead. I'm not five. I'm sixteen and I…I want to know what I'm up against."

I blinked in shock. Meek little Ella was saying something that was important, and it made sense. She was talking like me. She was talking like a leader.

Life will never, ever be the same. Pizza places are gone, as are hospitals, libraries, neighbors, and regular human contact.

"We'll wait until the zombies lose interest in us," I sighed in defeat. I couldn't stop Ella if I wanted to. She'd escape through the door while I was sleeping, then she'd be a goner for sure, "So, maybe a week. I don't know how long zombie attention spans are."

Ella's face softened and she sat down again, "Really? We're leaving? Just like that?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" I snapped before controlling myself. I knew what she meant. Looking around, I saw broken glass, mud, and mess everywhere. Leaving the house like this felt wrong, "We should clean up."

It was a stupid, pointless task, cleaning a house we'd soon leave, but human attachments make us do stupid things. Ella nodded and got out a broom, and I brought out the wash cloths and bleach. As she swept up the broken glass, I scrubbed the blood and vomit off the walls and counters.

"Be careful around that glass," I warned Ella, though it was unnecessary. Ella had donned on gloves, as well had given me a pair. It wouldn't do good to turn into zombies. Scrub, scrub, scrub. Scrub away the memories of Mom's death. Scrub away the pain. Scrub away the anxiety of the Flock. Scrub, scrub, scrub.

"I want to go to my school," Ella told me, "This thing really started at about four on Wednesday. There might still be people there."

School had thick glass, walls, and doors. Zombies aren't likely to break into that place unless some idiot invites them in. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find someone I know.

"Okay," I agreed as I surveyed our work. The house looked normal. It was clean and there wasn't a blood spot anywhere. It would be a shame to waste it, "Ella, where do you keep your paint?"

"Paint?" Ella clarified, looking at me like I'd gone insane. I don't think that I was crazy yet. I just didn't think that our efforts should go to waste. I nodded. Ella shrugged and led me to her garage. When she flipped the light switch and the lightbulb flickered to light, Ella covered her mouth and gagged. In the middle of the floor was a decaying small dog, which looked half eaten. Mom had killed Magnolia. Mental images of her eating the dog made me cringe, and I pushed my emotions away.

"Ignore it," I instructed. I'd seen worse. I'd seen mutants tear their friends apart in the School, not so different from the zombies.

I picked up a full can of red paint and a brush and carried them upstairs to Ella's room. My sister followed me like a dog, wondering what I was doing. I unfurled my wings and thrust myself outside the window and hovered outside the house while the zombies groaned beneath me. Quickly, I painted two words onto the front side of the house, the bright red contrasting greatly against the mint green. My penmanship didn't look very appealing, nor did it explain very much, but ti got my point across.

"Ella, I need a ladder," I barked. There was a sound of complaint before she threw a rope ladder out the window. It was made of bright yellow nylon, so it would last awhile.

"It was in the hall closet," she informed me. I didn't care. I just wanted this done. I would do this and then we could leave. We'd leave this house with terrible memories, and then we'd work on finding the flock. They had to be alive. All of them. If they weren't, I don't know how I'd function.

"I need a hammer and nails," I said loudly and Ella got those for me, too. It's hard to do multitask flying with something else, but I got it done. I leaned against the house as I nailed the ends of the rope ladder into the window sill.

"What did you paint on the house?" Ella asked me. I told her and she smiled faintly, glad that what we were doing would help someone.

The words that I had painted? The two words that could draw a smile out of a mourning teen?

**ZOMBIE SAFEHOUSE**


	4. JJ's Journal

We traveled on foot, since Ella was too heavy for me to carry on my own. I was more agile than I was strong, so that was my fault. Armed with a golf club, I killed more zombies than I could count. My sister was determined that she took down as many, if not more, zombies than me.

"Watch out!" Ella shouted and smashed a zombie's head in with her baseball bat. The zombie had snuck up behind me while I was finishing off a once-mutant zombie. Thankfully, I hadn't known this one. Black hair, yellow eyes, and strong as hell.

"We need better weapons," I panted and looked around, but this city was unfamiliar to me. We were just surrounded by apartments, "Is there a place that sells weapons anywhere near here?"

"There's a sporting store about a mile from here," Ella told me as she swung her bat at the last zombie's head. Once it was unanimated, she pointed, "That way."

A mile away, I sighed. Not everything could come easily, I guess. At least it wasn't across the city. That was something.

"We'll just climb those emergency stairs," I told her, sketching out the plan as I spoke, "And we'll hop from roof to roof until we get to it."

"That sounds good," Ella nodded, "The people around here…aren't really prepared for this kind of thing, so…the store'll probably still be intact."

"You mean most of the humans are probably dead and wouldn't have gotten to the store anyway," I deadpanned. I was just toughening her up. In the zombie apocalypse, there was no room for soft heartedness.

Ella flinched and had to swallow before speaking, "Yes. That's what I mean."

I nodded, "Then let's go."

I made Ella go up the fire escape first. If a zombie mob appeared down here, I wouldn't want her to be the one to face it alone. I doubted there'd be one on the roof. I climbed up myself and we both proceeded up to the top of the building.

On the roof, we found a dead person.

It wasn't a zombie, mind you, but a bonafide dead person. A teenage girl was propped up against the ledge of the roof, a hole in her temple with black, dried blood clotted on her face and a gun in her hand. A few feet away from her was a piece of paper in barely legible print.

"A suicide letter?" I wondered aloud before picking up the piece of paper. It wasn't a suicide note, but a journal. I flipped to the girl's very last entry.

_" Right now, I think that I am at my end. I got separated from my group during a hunt. I got scratched. I don't know if a scratch can turn you, but I'm not taking any chances. I have bullets in my gun, so I'll get my body away from the zombies so it won't become food, and I'll end myself. A good death, if you ask me. Maybe Sam would be proud. I hope he won't miss me."_

I wondered why I had read that. The girl looked familiar. I flipped to the inside of the front cover and bit my lip as I read the name inscribed there.

"Jennifer Joy," I grimaced and looked back at the dead girl in front of me. This was J.J. I could see it now. She'd changed greatly from four years ago. J.J. had grown out her brown locks, her body had developed nicely, and from what here journal had said, she'd matured as well.

Ella picked up J.J.'s gun and checked to see if there were still bullets, "She's not going to need it anymore."

My little, insecure sister was saying that? Ella's heart had hardened. That would make her last longer, but her life wouldn't be as colorful as before.

I sighed as I tucked J.J.'s journal into my backpack. It wouldn't feel right to leave it here. Maybe I'd read it sometime. It might contain something useful.

Ella and I roof hopped to Dick's Sporting Goods, where I pried the automatic doors open and we raided the store. Ella had been right. No one had even touched the store. We traded our backpacks for better, more efficient ones and loaded them with water, jerky, and weapons galore. Ammo for Ella's gun and arrows for my recently 'acquired' crossbow went in too. We both got some nice machetes, too, in case we got separated from our nice weapons.

"You kept that girl's journal?" Ella asked me, almost derisively when she saw me put J.J.'s journal in my pack.

"Yeah," I focused on zipping the backpack up, "I knew her."


End file.
